


Unfair

by goldandsteel



Category: Marvel, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: (i guess), Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Asgard, Basically Jotunhein was crushed and its people enslaved, Inspired by Fanart, M/M, Oneshot, Slave-healer!Loki, Stockholm Syndrome, Thor Feels, Thor's POV, Thorki - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2014-01-26
Packaged: 2018-01-10 02:41:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1153803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldandsteel/pseuds/goldandsteel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thor's heart believed there was a lot of unfairness in the world, as well in Asgard. Thor's title forced him to perpetuate it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unfair

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [this cute fanart](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/34831) by roromish. 



> Hello! I saw that incredible fanart and the AU idea by roromish and I couldn't take this off of my head... So I wrote it. I really hope it makes up to the art. Feedback are appreciated, lots of love to you for reading. <3

His hands were incredibly soft.

As soft, perhaps, as the smile stamped on his face. Thor never stopped wondering, ever since he got old enough to understand why that scrawny boy was always around to heal his wounds, how Loki managed to smile at him with such honesty.

He remembered his initial shock when Father told him about the Great Battle of Jotunhein’s detail he kept for years - that Asgard won and Jotunhein fell, Thor knew all very well. It surprised him, though, to know that the Jotuns were nearly extinct and the few useful citizens of the ruined place were taken as slaves to serve and obey Odin for the rest of their miserable lives. Even in his lack of maturity, it sounded incredible unfair.

He, then at the beginning of his youth, finally understood why Loki and a few other healers had so much competence and talent at their work and so few words regarding everything else. They were taught by Frigga, whom undoubtedly was kind towards them, but the very blood in their veins carried a magic that an Asgardian could never possess. By magic they were bound to serve Asgard and the All-father at any costs - may it be with their talent, may it be with their lives.

Thor spent some good days secluded in his chambers, feeling nauseated and betrayed. He thought, for all his ignorance, that Loki helped him for the goodness of his heart and the gratitude he felt for his parents. None of the slave-healers were treated with cruelty but Loki, for his importance as Thor’s personal healer, had a special place into the palace and became a good friend of the heir.

It was odd, why the dark-haired boy couldn’t play with him like Hogun, Sif and his other friends could - why he had to spend endless hours with his face between books, absorbing Frigga’s knowledge, practising magic, perfecting himself - why he had always this quiet smile on his face and this content look in his eyes. It was all very odd and it became all very clear when Thor found out the truth - and it _hurt_.

When the prince finally grew tired of his own bitterness and decided to summon Loki to confront him he had to swallow all the mean words stuck in his throat, for the boy - in the making of becoming a man, much like himself - entered his room with cautious and sat at his fur rug looking as calm as ever.

"I’ve been informed that you didn’t know I have a duty towards you." Right then, Thor wondered how could he ever dream of getting angry at Loki. The boy helped him all of his life. He probably lost his family, his home, his future when Asgard won the war. As if reading his thoughts, the other kept speaking. "You see, I am very grateful for the opportunity of being your healer. I can’t remember other home that not this one, I can’t remember a mother that not yours… _This_ is my life. I could have been killed in the war but I was spared and the King brought me into his home to take care of you. It has always been a great honor.”

As stupid as it might seemed before, Thor found himself struggling to not let tears flood his vision. The feeling of betrayal lingered, like the bitter after-taste of a cup of ale, but he knew he couldn’t put in onto Loki. He was but a tool that his father judged useful enough to keep alive; he was a small but elementary piece of the engine that kept Asgard in place.

In silence, the prince tried to connect a string of words cold enough to not let his weakness be seen - after all, he would one day be the King himself, slaughter monsters and seize slaves as well. But the tremble at his chest was too familiar and Thor knew that if he opened his mouth to speak, his voice would shake and a childish crying would begin, which was unacceptable for a young warrior like him. When he stared at Loki’s eyes, there was expectancy, so he did the only thing left to do.

Thor nodded and smiled in comprehension, opening his arms to invite a hug. The rare sight of Loki’s teeth flashed when the slave grinned and jumped to obey, enveloping arms around him in silence. The prince promised to himself he wouldn’t ever let Loki’s task darken his feelings and sour his friendship - the boy was his friend, a brother at heart, and he would always be.

Coming back at himself, the now grown prince shook his head trying to understand what happened so that these memories could blur his mind so. Perhaps it was the blow to the head he suffered while fighting, his fingers going up to touch the open cut. Loki’s hands were soft as always in his right hand, a warm and blue light irradiating and connecting bones, nerves and skin to restore and put them all in place.

"Be more careful next time, sir." The young man’s voice sounded resigned as if he was sure any advice would be ignored. The last word put a spear into Thor’s heart and he caught himself blinking before answering.

"Loki, I know not how many times I’ve asked you to call me by my name. Not sir, not prince, not anything else but my name." Loki closed his eyes, completely focused in his task, and the blond man sighed sadly. When the slave finally finished, Thor’s hand was perfect and intact, as if no grotesque monster had stepped and crushed it a few hours before.

"It’s out of habit, sir. And it would not be appropriate for a slave to call you by your name, as I recall telling you many times before as well." This time, his smile was playful and he seemed oblivious to Thor’s miserable expression. "Now it’s time to take care of this ugly wound on your forehead."

As the cut wasn’t deep, it didn’t require a lot of energy or effort so Loki brushed his fingers over the bruise in mild concentration. Thor wished he would touch his face, caress his jaw and neck and thread fingers into his messed hair, but it was a thought so absurd he refused to dwell on it for more than some moments. Yet, the wish accompanied him for years just as the tangled ball of other feelings he had regarding Loki.

"If you were freed, what would you do, Loki?" The prince asked, more to distract himself than for any other reason, and his healer frowned. It wasn’t a new question but the slave always found a good way of not answering truthfully.

"The King would never allow it. Even if you or the Queen wanted it, it would be outrageous." Thor sighed in exasperation.

"But if it happened, what would you do? Pray, tell me." Loki’s eyes lowered and his mind seemed to wander as he spoke softly, hand still touching the blond’s skin.

"Well, I have nowhere to go. And as Jotuns are not loved in Asgard, I believe I would explore and travel through the Nine Realms without destination, learning and enjoying new things." His eyes turned to stare at Thor’s, greener than ever, and for the first time in months Loki let his mask of contempt fall, a deep determination in his features. "But I’m happy in staying by your side… Thor."

Whether it was the naked sentiment flowing from Loki’s eyes, whether it was the blow on his head to blame, the Asgardian gave to the impulse that followed him for years and pressed his lips into Loki’s in a sudden and hard motion. Before he got even a reaction, he retreated feeling horribly guilty - his healer would surely think he was using his position as owner to try and rip from him the little power he had over himself. Loki belonged to Thor and precisely because of that, the prince could never be close to his slave the way he wanted. Frigga would be ashamed. Hell, _Thor_ was ashamed.

But the hand at his forehead, instead of going away, only spread itself over his face gently. The tension in the room was suffocating and Thor wished he could disappear into the ground until he heard a soft chuckle and glanced at Loki again, his blue eyes full of shame.

"I am truly sorry I cannot free you, Loki. Please, do not take my thoughtless act as a demand. I never—" A thumb crossed his lips, shutting him and killing his words until there were none floating in his mind. Only Loki and his sly smile, eyes bright and inviting, skin soft like silk.

"You certainly can forget how to use your wits sometimes, my prince. Haven’t you heard me? Travelling would be appreciated, but I’m happy in staying with you… Quite more than you can suppose." Both of his hands went around the other’s face and Loki closed in, brushing the tip of his nose in Thor’s. The prince’s expression lit up and he took a deep breath smelling the fresh and wonderful scent from Loki’s - it was all he managed to absorb before his healer was kissing him again, tender and hard and perfectly.

His hands were incredibly soft.

His lips were even softer.

It was the most unfair thing Thor had ever known.


End file.
